Dirtied Fluffy White Tails
by Gater101
Summary: AU. Where Major Sheppard comes to the Atlantis expedition a year after they first went through. Extension of my one-shot 'Mad Romance'
1. A Little Further

Title: Dirtied Fluffy White Tails  
Summary: AU. Where Major Sheppard comes to the Atlantis expedition a year after they first went through.  
Characters: Sheppard, Teyla, Lorne, McKay... Everyone...  
Pairing: John/Teyla  
Rating: T

**Notes**: This is not as crack!tastic as the title suggests. It is, in fact, an extension of a wee one-shot I did before Christmas called 'Mad Romance', in which Lorne is the commanding officer, Sheppard and Teyla got married in Vegas and no one knew about it. This is the story of how that all came to be. Needless to say, it is AU.

---

Colonel Evan Lorne strode into the briefing room with a curt nod to the civilian leader of the expedition, Doctor Elizabeth Weir. Already seated around the table, Doctors McKay and Beckett were quietly bickering while his second, Teyla Emmagan of the Athosians, looked on impassively, a small smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. There were a few yellows he recognised from his trips to the infirmary but couldn't name but he nodded in greeting anyway and took his seat perpendicular to Weir.

"What's up?" Lorne asked when it seemed everyone was content to let the meeting go by and Beckett and McKay immediately started and pulled their tablets towards them, clearing their throats. Lorne smirked slightly in amusement and met Teyla's amused eyes.

"We, ah..." McKay trailed off in an uncharacteristic lack of words and turned to Beckett beside him, who similarly shrugged and tapped a few buttons on his screen.

"When we opened up one of the Ancient labs," one of the blues – the Czech, Lorne was sure – began and McKay turned to him with a sharp glare that effectively silenced the scientist.

"Yes, yes. Since the Midlorians were oh-so-kind enough to let us take back our Zed-PM's, we've been able to fully power up the city. There's still some water damage on lower floors and on the east pier but for the most part, the labs seem to be in good condition even though we have no idea what half of them do but I guess-"

"The point, McKay?" Lorne interrupted, gesturing with his hands for McKay to hurry up. The scientist paused to glare at him before pointedly stabbing his finger into the tablet in front of him and pulling up a map of the city on the centre console. The image zoomed in on one of the labs on the south-east pier where there was a blinking dot flashing at him. Lorne stared at it as lines of Ancient flickered up and down the page waiting for _someone _to translate. When no one did, he pointed to the image. "What is it?"

"That," Beckett said excitedly as he too pointed at the flashing dot, "is a device that measures the Ancient gene."

Lorne frowned and turned to Elizabeth who had the ghost of a smile on her lips and Lorne got the distinct impression that this wasn't the first time she was hearing about this.

Lorne glanced around at the gaggle of yellows who had started to hum in appreciation, their quiet chatter a low din in the background. Lorne shook his head, gesturing upwards with open palms and a shrug of his shoulders.

"What does that mean?"

"It means-" McKay started, his tone slicing and Lorne glared at him before Weir cut in.

"It means that, with this device, we will be able to scan entire planets to see if anyone has a discernable Ancient gene level."

Lorne felt his eyebrows lift as his eyes flickered to Beckett, who looked mildly relieved. Since coming to Atlantis almost a year ago, the expedition had been hounded with one problem after the other: they'd barely had enough juice left in the ZPMs to get them onto the surface of the water and the one they had brought with them just wasn't enough. And now that they had a full contingent of both ZPMs and drones, there was no one capable enough to interact with the city through the chair. They had all tried it and it seemed as though Beckett was the only one who could make the city do anything other than thrum with some sort of sentient presence that seemed to flow through the very walls. If they now had a device that could pinpoint people who had sufficiently high count of whatever it was that made up the Ancient gene then it could, potentially solve all of their problems.

"What are we talking about here?"

McKay grinned manically for a second before turning back to his tablet.

"We're working with Hermiiod to interface it with the Asgard technology on the Daedalus and try and transport it back to Earth. But," he went on, holding his finger in the air, "we've managed to condense the technology so that we can get one into a Jumper and do sweeps of some of our allies' planets."

Lorne didn't entirely like the idea of any of their supposed 'allies' being their only direct link to the city but he supposed that it could be worth a shot; but if it turned out that any of the Genii were gene holders, Kolya was definitely not coming back to the city with them.

"All right," Lorne said with a nod and pressed his palms flat onto the table. "What you've got sounds good. Get me a report and I'll read more about it before I sign off but, from what you've said, it sounds good."

Beckett beamed across the room at him as the canaries in the back started twittering again. Lorne rolled his eyes slightly and turned to Elizabeth who was smiling at him.

"Thank you," she said with a smile and Lorne nodded, remembering the truce they had come to only weeks before.

"The logic is sound and the opportunities it presents are too good to pass up. I just hope they can get it back to Earth 'cause I'd feel a hell of a lot better with one of our guys in the chair than someone we're not sure we can trust."

"Who's to say that if there is someone on Earth with high enough levels, he or she will be military?"

--

Major John Sheppard really didn't mind his job. He didn't even mind the locale all that much; he was far enough away from home base that he could keep pretty much to himself and pretty much whatever he wanted and he'd paid off one of the quacks he piloted about to rig up a satellite receiver so he could get some cable channels (granted, some of them were the UK and sometimes even Spain but beggars can't be choosers). He got to pilot out over the glaciers of the Antarctic in his very own helicopter and he sometimes took one of their jeeps out to go penguin watching.

It was certainly better than Afghanistan and at least in the Antarctic, no one was trying to shoot him. He could easily keep reminding the good old USAF of the black mark on his record if it meant he got to stay in this post until his retirement.

"You Major John Sheppard?"

Sheppard glanced around the small hangar bay as though looking for someone then turned to look down from the wings of his chopper to the General who had addressed him. He was flanked by a woman in dress blues and a huge guy in a trench coat and hat. He studied the three of them for a few seconds longer before straightening from his crouched position and brushing himself down.

"Yep, that's me."

The General moved his lips in an imitation of a smile and took his sunglasses off. Sheppard instantly felt at ease at that barrier being taken away. He glanced to the two people flanking him and the General shifted his body to follow his gaze, glancing out the corner of his eye to the people on either side of him.

"That's Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter," he said and indicated the woman on his left. "And this is Teal'c," he said indicating the behemoth on his right. The man lifted his head a moment and smiled before tilting it down in a bow. Sheppard clumsily returned to gesture and then stared pointedly at the General. "Oh, right. I'm General Jack O'Neill and you need to come with us."

"Wh-" there was a flash of white and Sheppard felt a tingling all over his body before it was suddenly gone again. He shivered and shook his shoulders before instantly freezing. His hand moved to his sidearm automatically drawing the weapon from the holster. "What the hell?"

The woman stepped forward, holding her hand out and O'Neill seemed quite content to let her take over.

"You can lower your weapon, Major." Sheppard declined the offer and continued to stare at the three of them. "You've just been transported to one of Earth's inter-galactic Aurora class space ships."

"Space ship? Right," he scoffed and lifted his gun a notch higher.

"Turn around," the woman said and he hesitated a moment, glancing to the General who nodded. He tilted his head slightly, catching a strange glow from behind him. He turned further and his arms dropped to his sides, the gun falling from his suddenly loose fingers. He was staring at Earth, probably from as far out as the moon. His feet carried him to the large window and he stared at the sight below him before a strange distortion in the blank canvas of space drew his eye. He watched as threads of light opened up in front of him in the black void before a huge ass ship materialised before his very eyes before disappearing just as quickly as it came. "That's the Daedalus, one of our battle cruisers – or F304's."

"Is that... Are... _What_?"

"There's a lot to explain but what you need to know is that you are what we've been looking for for the last year and a half."

--

He'd been cooped up on the Daedalus for eighteen days and, from what they had told him, they would be dropping out of hyperspace (_hyperspace_ he thought incredulously) in a matter of hours. During his stay on the ship, he'd watched hours upon endless hours of video about the Stargate and the Atlantis expedition and what it was that made him _so damn important_. If he was being honest with himself, he was still waiting to wake up in his bunk in Antarctica, having suffered some serious hallucinations due to loneliness or something he ate.

But then, he reasoned, surely his mind wasn't so cruel as to create up a being as Doctor Rodney McKay whose incessant prattle had made Sheppard lock himself in his room for two days straight just so the scientist would shut up for two minutes. He'd wanted to run test after test after test before the woman – Weir, he recalled – had told him to wait until they got home.

_Home_.

He couldn't believe that these people referred to an alien city in another galaxy as their _home_. At the very least, it made him stop questioning his own sanity and question theirs instead.

"Major Sheppard," a disembodied voice called over the intercom system and he shivered at the reminder of the... the... _thing _he'd met that called itself Hermiiod. He could barely believe that the thing could stay upright on its tiny tooth pick legs let alone be the brains of the galaxy like they all claimed it was. At least the thing was more intelligent than McKay and couldn't seem to stop itself from reminding the Canadian of that fact, much to McKay's displeasure. "If could come to the database room, we would be most obliged."

Sheppard groaned and rolled from his bunk. Apparently it was too much to want the next few hours to contemplate his new life.

--

As soon as the white tingles disintegrated, Sheppard felt a strange power thrum through his muscles. He tried to take a step but faltered slightly, his head and vision pulsing with the strange beat vibrating through his body.

"Can you feel that?" A voice said from somewhere, possibly miles away, at his side. "The city must sense the presence of the such a strong gene carrier."

The last coherent thing he remembers was the feel of strong feminine hands holding his head up off the ground.

--

He woke in the infirmary, dazed and disoriented. His fingers tingled merrily and he stretched them assessing the damage. There was none and when he sat up his head pulsed for a moment and he pushed the heel of his hand against his forehead to still the vibrations coursing through him. It took a few moments but the thrumming in his body eventually relented and he blinked his eyes open. The room was bright but empty save for his bed; there were no windows, one door and a huge machine set up at the side of his bed with a distinctly human monitor attached to it. It seemed they were off.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind when the monitor flickered to life and the machine hummed and began to glow. He skittered away from it, eyes wide, as he felt a gentle tingling at the base of his skull in the milliseconds before the door to his room opened. He turned to stare wide eyed at the group of people who walked in, not feeling unlike an animal in the zoo.

"The machines respond to thought," one of them said, his accent Scottish. Sheppard stared at him. "Hello, I'm Doctor Beckett but you can call me Carson."

"Hey..." he responded dubiously, looking around at the others. He groaned when his eyes alighted on McKay and the Marine – Lorne, the commanding officer – chuckled at McKay's incredulous 'what?'. "What the hell happened?" He asked as he stared at the only other person he didn't know.

"You caused quite the stir," Lorne replied with a smirk, his tone amused. "Seems the city got a little excited by your presence."

Sheppard snorted and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in a wearied gesture.

"I read about that... The in-flight brochure is severely lacking in sufficient information."

Lorne smirked and huffed out a laugh.

"In the Air Force's defence, the City has never responded that way. You're a paradox."

"We can only assume that because the three Zed-PMs are up and running that the electro-magnetic flow through the city and the gene-"

"McKay," Sheppard interrupted, closing his eyes. "Shut up."

McKay huffed and the others tried to hide their laughs behind coughs and smirks.

"You and I are going to get along just fine, Major," Lorne said with a smile that Sheppard easily returned.


	2. Down the RabbitHole

**Part Two**

What Rodney failed to realise, John grumbled internally as he slotted his mind once again into the neural pathways of the city, was that this stuff was _tiring_. Every day for the last two months, Sheppard had been herded into the Chair, his mind pushed and probed and hassled beyond all means and he was always expected to come back. When the anthropology team were questioning him, John didn't mind slipping back into the City and pulling up the relevant files to be displayed either in the cool-ass holographic display above his head, or on one of the filmy screens on the far side of the room because at least the anthropology department was grateful.

Rodney, on the other hand, expected John to mentally transfer data from the City to whatever handheld it happened to be that Rodney had in his grasp at that time. And he didn't even thank him. Over time John had gotten used to it but it by no means meant that he let Rodney get away with it.

As it was right at that moment, John had been in the chair for seven hours straight foregoing breakfast, lunch and verging on missing dinner and Rodney still didn't seem keen to let him rest for even a moment. But his mind kept slipping, wandering along paths it wasn't supposed to because he just _couldn't concentrate _anymore. And that irritated Rodney, who would complain loudly, which would annoy John causing him to lose his focus again.

After about the hundredth time of that happening in the space of ten seconds, John disengaged from the City abruptly, feeling the usual surge of fatigue as he propelled himself from the chair, ignoring Rodney's bursts of complaint and fled from the room. He would no doubt regret it later, as Rodney was not above fiddling with the settings in John's room but right then, he just really needed a break.

--

"Ah."

He looked up at the quiet exultation, letting his spoon drop back into his bowl of lukewarm soup as he frowned in greeting.

"What's up?" He asked, watching as Teyla stepped into the rarely used small kitchenette that John had found on his third or fourth night on Atlantis. He watched as she moved to the refrigerator, filtering easily past all the boxes and plastic tubs for something wrapped in brown paper near the back. He'd tried that stuff – _jaranda _stalks – and his stomach revolted at the reminder of the taste. When she took out the tub of houmous too, John scowled across at her. "God, anyone would think you were pregnant eating that stuff."

She scoffed lightly and shot him a disparaging glare which he returned with amusement. She dunked her _jaranda _into the houmous and scooped up a giant dollop to bite off. He shuddered visibly and she smiled over at him around her mouthful of food.

"Disgusting..." he murmured quietly and shook his head as he returned to his tomato soup, breaking off a piece of half-stale bread to dip into it.

They ate in companionable silence for a short while, John reading through a sheaf of City schematics and Teyla lost to her own thoughts. Every now and then John would look up to see her looking thoughtfully over his shoulder, a stalk of _jaranda _perched, long forgotten, between her fingers. She turned her gaze slightly and smiled when she met his eye and he knew he should have looked away. He didn't and she smiled, dropping her gaze to the tub of houmous in front of her.

"Has Rodney been difficult with you?" She asked, her tone a curious mixture of amusement and concern and John rolled his eyes good naturedly.

"Does he know any other way to be?" He questioned and she snorted lightly. "It's not for much longer, thankfully." She looked up to him then, a confused frown on her features and he smiled slightly, touched by the – what he perceived to be – slight panic in her eyes at the idea he might be leaving. "I talked to Colonel Lorne about getting me onto a team; there's only so long I can sit in a chair without losing my mind."

Teyla smiled slightly and nodded, tilting her head so it rested in her upturned palm as she leant her elbow on the table. Like that, she looked five years younger than John knew her to be and he had to force his eyes away from the sight. He hadn't wanted to raise any eyebrows by asking too many questions about the beautiful Athosian or her people but from he had garnered by his subtle questioning was that for the most part, the natives of the Pegasus galaxy were a frivolous bunch – the Athosians no exceptions. And while he didn't imagine Teyla to any kind of pure innocence, he also couldn't imagine her... the way he knew (from the experience of their approaches) other native women to be. Lorne had nothing but the utmost respect for her and while many of the men looked upon her with an appreciative eye, John knew none of them would even consider doing anything about the desire she incited in them.

Like him.

"Yes, I have heard that team two and seven require an extra body, although I believe the requirements of each to be ones of science."

John shrugged and looked down to his empty bowl.

"I just have to do something." He quirked half a smile in her direction and she returned it absently. "Knowing my luck, I'll end up with McKay."

Teyla smiled at that and leaned back, stretching her arms out behind her. He looked away for a moment and when he looked back, he caught the remains of a smirk on her lips but her usual facade quickly stole the remnants away. He smiled to her then stood, using the edge of his palm to gather his crumbs and dump them in the bowl that he took to the sink to rinse. He could feel and hear Teyla moving about behind him as she returned her own quarry to the fridge.

"Are they still doing that movie night thing down in the rec room on twenty nine?" He asked over his shoulder as he dried his hands on a dishtowel.

"Yes, although it has moved on to television series, I believe," she commented lightly as she leaned her hip against the worktop perpendicular to him. He quirked an eyebrow at her amused tone and she shook her head. "It seems someone thought it prudent to acquire a copy of... I believe it is called Wormhole X-Treme?"

John laughed loudly at that. He remembered watching bits and pieces of episodes of that horrendous television series in Antarctica.

"I'd forgotten about that... who was it? Zelenka? He seems to the type who might actually enjoy crap like that," John chortled, shaking his head slightly as he recalled the blue alien who portrayed Teal'c. "I was going to head down but I think I'll give it a miss."

Teyla nodded.

"A wise choice, I believe." He met her eyes for a moment before pushing himself off from the sink edge. He assessed the room, making sure it was as it had been before he'd settled himself down to eat before turning to bid Teyla goodnight. The words were about to leave his mouth when she interrupted him. "I am in need of a sparring partner, if you would care to join me?"

Automatically, his eyes slid up and down her petite form as he thought about sparring with her. He'd seen her 'sparring' with Dex and he knew, without even having to think too much on the subject, that she would hand him his ass on a plate.

He nodded.

"Sure."

--

It was not one of his better ideas.

As he stood under the spray of the tepid water of his shower, he hissed as the torrent hit on each and every forming bruise on his body. She had offered to go lightly, considering she had only just shown him the basic moves for the first time, but he had insisted she not tone it down on his behalf. He was sure she did anyway, yet she still kicked his ass.

He'd never known the tiles on the ceiling were hexagonal and as he had lain there, he wondered how they fit in, considering the room was round.

She must have got him one on the head as well. It wouldn't surprise him. Not in the least. As he closed his eyes, he could still see the lingering half hidden smirk as she'd held out a hand to help him off the ground – _again_.

--

"How's your team holding up?" Colonel Lorne questioned as they sat around a small poker table, cigars smoking idly in the ashtray and Sheppard looked up with a half smile. They'd won a small victory against a Wraith outpost and were celebrating the event with cards, smokes and beer. A well earned victory in all their eyes.

"It's fine."

Lorne nodded and tapped the table. Marks slipped him a card.

"And Dex is a good second?"

Sheppard snorted in mock disgust at the comment and rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he fingered the corner of his card before reaching out to roll his cigar around on its perch on his empty pint glass.

"I don't know why the guy doesn't have a team of his own."

Lorne raised his eyebrow over the rim of his card and Sheppard tried to study his face. There was a reason he hadn't played poker in several years, if the memory of losing a week's worth of flying hours was anything to go by.

"He doesn't want one." Lorne shrugged. "I don't know. You guys get on fine so..."

"Is this my official review?" Lorne laughed loudly at that and Sheppard dropped his cards onto the table. "I'm out."

"We should do this in Vegas." There was a murmur of agreement around the table, mingled with a few incredulous scoffs. "I'll speak to Woolsey. If we can get the ZPMs renewed, or if McKay ever finds out how to recharge them, we can drop by Earth for a little while."

Sheppard smiled; he had only been away from Earth for a couple of months and he already felt a little home sick. There wasn't a lot waiting for him on Earth – it was part of the reason the choice to come to Atlantis was so easy – but he still missed simply being on his home planet. It was a daunting thought, realising how small your own existence was, in the grander scheme of things.

He shook off the maudlin thoughts with a little snort and pushed himself away from the table.

"I'm beat. I'll see you guys in the morning for the meeting."

He stood, pausing when Teyla entered the room but brushed past her with a small nod. It would do no good for him if any of the men thought he had a thing for Teyla, as they had so rudely rumoured after they spotted him and Teyla beating the crap out of one another in the gym with her Bantos sticks... or rather, after they saw Teyla beating the crap out of him. Since then, they had both made a marked effort not to appear too... friendly with one another. Which was ridiculous, he thought, as he turned and saw her stub out the cigar he'd left smouldering on the rim of his empty beer glass.

"Good night, Major," Teyla remarked as she settled into the spot he'd vacated and he tossed a smile over his shoulder to her, ignoring the slight tightening in his gut.

"Yeah, g'night," he murmured and slid out of the room, ordering the flush to leave his cheeks.

This would not do.

--

Much later, when the moons were setting over one horizon and the first of the suns was arising in the second, Sheppard awoke sweaty and panting, his hand gliding easily through his saturated hair. He tried to draw in breaths and he fought to recollect what had woken him, the vague memory of Vegas girls and bunny ears running around Atlantis' control causing him to splutter out a laugh.

He flopped down onto his back, staring up at the ever brightening ceiling of his room on a floating city built by an ancient race of aliens in a galaxy that was not his own and wondered, not for the first time, how far down the rabbit hole he'd gone.


End file.
